Hate Before Love
by JaRawRaw
Summary: Pyschosis; a girl who has a thrill to kill children's parents right in front of them, and writes "Boredom Kills, doesn't it", at everyone one of her murder scenes. It's her purpose of life, seeing as she's in the middle between life and death. What happens when she runs into another creepypasta?


**Prologue**

I crawled from underneath the twin bed. The breaths of the pre-teen girl were reminding me of my reason for being placed on this vile place called Earth.

_To kill._

I was a weird mixture of the Living and the Dead. My face would transform to a skeleton's face, my right eye disappearing when night sets, the other still there with a black iris.

I'm possessed, and I love every minute of it. I have a passionate love to kill the innocent. Innocent people aren't innocent at all. They judge you in your minds, act all nice then stab you right in the back, twisting the knife further into your body as you beg for mercy. I was one of those humans, getting picked on for the way I looked, or the way I acted. It sickens me, quiet frankly.

So I look for families, where they have a pre-teen child. I like to make the children see what I do to their parents. It gives me a thrill, a very pleasant thrill.

I trail my boney finger from the edge of the bed towards the top, where her hair is. She stirs slightly as I twirl her precious hair with my finger. She blinks a few times, then fear registers in her body. Her shrill screams lure her parents.

I listen to their pounding feet as they run down the stairs, their worriedness for their screaming daughter. Oh what a pity! She should learn how to face her fears!

Quickly, I go behind the door, as it's slammed open. Both parents are in the room, trying to sooth the hysterical girl as she "Cries Wolf". That's when it's my time to shine, to have fun. My hand slowly goes in my pocket, my fingers brushing the serrated blade of the knife.

She's screaming at them, but they don't turn around. _Fools! That's what they all are!_ I quickly plunge the metal into the woman's back, right where her hear is located, and twist it sharply.

The man turns around, and falls to the floor, possibly frightened by my appearance. I take the knife out of the dead woman's body, and start to walk closer and closer to the helpless man.

"Please, don't kill me," he says to me.

I laugh in his face, but quickly put a poker face. I grab him from his shirt, and lift him, shoving him onto the wall.

"You're going to die, and your little brat is going to watch and suffer remembering all of what happened tonight." My voice sounds demonic, like it didn't belong to a girl. The voice was creepy, and it scared my victims all the time.

I plunge the knife in his stomach, hitting one of his organs. A short gasp escapes his lips, and more ugly screams come from the girls mouth. I twist my head, and look at her.

"Shut your trap you little brat!" I spit, my demonic obviously scaring her.

I grab the body towards the wall, cutting off the arm, and making a cut on the finger. In huge letters, I quickly write, "Boredom Kills, doesn't it?"

I hear the sirens, and make a run for the backyard, door. I run, jumping over logs and tree roots as I run through the forrest. I was running home, a place I shared with a friend of mine, someone who is like me in a way. His name is Enderman, a relative of _The_ Slenderman.

I was running, but I hear more twigs cracking, and it wasn't the ones underneath my feet. I stop, wanting to listen carefully. There was someone else in the woods besides me, and they were in a hurry. The running sounded inhuman, especially because of the speed they were going at.

Before I know it, I'm on the floor, looked at the thing that practically ran me over.

_You have competition,_ my alter ego sang at me, mocking me in a way.

"Watch where you're fucking going!" he yelled at me,

I got up and dusted myself off. Did this kid really want to die right now? I could end his life right now in less than five minutes.

He got up and dusted his pants off, the looked up to glare at me. I gasp, placing my hand to my mouth. _Is that another creepypasta?_

His face was a deathly white, with his bloodied smile and black ring around his eyes. His hair was black as space, and there were blood splatters all over his jacket. Who ever this boy was, he was simply an attractive amateur.

"You should watch where you're going!" my voice spit at him.

He didn't seemed fazed at all by my voice or appearance, but what creepypasta would?

"Stay off my territory, and we won't have this problem, girl," he says, before running away.

I look at the spot he was just standing at. There laying on the ground was a knife, with a rotting hand, but a nice sharp, clean blade. On the side was there was something craved, and it read, "Jeff".

_Well Jeff, how can you kill without your weapon? _


End file.
